


In the Moonlight

by LouPF



Series: Sabelsmut [2]
Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Pre-Relationship, Rutting, but not in the way you think, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: The crew has to camp overnight in the jungle, and to preserve heat, they pile up in a... pile. Pinky can't sleep, and Sabeltann notices.
Relationships: Kaptein Sabeltann/Pinky
Series: Sabelsmut [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851862
Kudos: 3





	In the Moonlight

It gets cold in the jungle. Pinky had known this before they set off on the expedition - another treasure hidden and booby-trapped in a temple somewhere, it's getting quite old, to be honest - and yet he has to admit the pile of bodies is... surprising.

They set camp right after the sun went down, and it'd been the first time Pinky had experienced that they had to sleep somewhere other than the Grim Lady while exploring. Judging by the others' expressions, it'd been a while since last time.

Sabeltann had announced, when it was time to rest, that they 'knew what to do, so just get it over and done with!'

The crew had grumbled a bit but eventually settled down in a heap of limbs and bodies. It really shouldn't be much different from how they usually sleep - everyone in one room, breath and snoring filling the air - yet it is, and Pinky can't sleep. He's somewhat on his side, only the support of Pelle's body keeping him from tilting over onto his back. Someone's hip is beneath him. His head is on Pelle's chest, and one of his legs is across Benjamin's shoulders, the other pinned God-knows-where. One of his arms is bent at a strange angle to keep from slapping Pysa in the face.

He scowls up at the sky. If only he knew where everyone else was - but he hadn't time to make a note of that. Pelle had grabbed him and dived to the ground next to Pysa the moment Sabeltann issued the command.

It all feels very disorganized.

...At least it's warm.

The body next to him that is neither Pelle, Pysa, or Benjamin turns.

Pinky comes face to face with Sabeltann.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Pinky swallows drily.

Sabeltann shifts, just a tiny bit, closing his eyes. His skin is bright even in the dark of night, his hair highlighted almost _blue_ in the gentle light of the moon piercing through the trees.

His throat bobs when he swallows, and Pinky stares at it, transfixed. It's not the first time he's found his gaze glued to Sabeltann - it's not the first time he's imagined how it might taste, if he put his mouth to that skin, or if he tangled his fingers in that hair, or if he kissed those lips.

It's the first time he's been close enough to do something about it.

He shudders, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping to all the gods that might be listening that he'll fall asleep soon, but more importantly, that his boner will go away.

There's the rustle of clothing as Sabeltann shifts again. "Cold?" he mutters, and his voice is dark enough from before, no need to lower it further, thanks.

He shakes his head, trying to subtly angle his hips away. Sabeltann really isn't making this any easier when he speaks like _that_ , with _that_ voice - the voice so rough it could rub his skin raw if words were spoken close enough.

"Are you certain?" Sabeltann says, and he shifts again. His eyes are so blue, crinkled at the corners with a flare of mischief.

Wait - mischief?

Pinky squirms - accidentally ends up with an elbow in his back - stops.

Yes, Sabeltann is definitely smirking beneath that mustache, it's not just his eyes playing tricks on him.

"You don't need me to..." He gestures a bit vaguely with his hand, smirk widening. "...warm you up a little?" His gaze pointedly drops to Pinky's crotch.

Pinky's cheeks heat up instantly. "I," he says, "I, er, might. Be a bit cold, yes."

It seems like Sabeltann got out of this whole pile-of-bodies ordeal far cheaper than Pinky, as he can shift closer with no worries of ending up beneath or between someone else. Sabeltann hums. "That's what I thought," he murmurs, and leans towards him, pressing the heel of his hand against the cloth of Pinky's crotch.

He bites his lip, looking straight up at the sky. Sabeltann's touch is evident through his pants, and his cock - already hard, because _of course_ it is - twitches in response. Slowly - tentatively slowly - Sabeltann moves his hand.

Pinky lets out a tiny little gasp, for that feels absolutely _wonderful_ , the rough sensation of cloth against his dick, the friction against his skin.

"Shh," says Sabeltann, somehow managing to lean closer without falling from Pysa's back. "Be quiet. We don't want them to wake."

Closing his eyes, Pinky nods dumbly. Sabeltann rubs, back and forth, and he's just getting harder by the _second._ Somehow it's all just making him hornier, the whole situation - that he can't speak - that he's at Sabeltann's mercy - that he just has to lean back and take it, for if he moves, _three_ people will wake.

A rumbling chuckle from Sabeltann. "Like that, do you?" he asks, twisting his hand just so, and Pinky's mouth falls open. He fights to stay quiet, but his hips twitch against his wants. "Be still, as well," Sabeltann says, sounding amused. "If you move, I'll stop."

Pinky goes still as a statue.

He chuckles again, then starts moving his hand in circles, pressing down, down, _kneading_.

His breath catches in his throat, and he tenses every muscle in his body, fighting not to move -

Sabeltann stills.

"No," Pinky blurts, then hurriedly lowers his voice to a whisper, "no, sorry, I won't - please don't - "

"Shh," Sabeltann breathes, dragging his finger down the length of Pinky's cock - still just through his pants, and yet so close. "Shh. It's okay." A pause. "These pants. Get them off."

Pinky hates that he can't do as he says, but - "I can't," he whispers, "I can't move this hand." He gestures stiffly with said hand, nearly slapping Pysa in the face in the process. His other is pinned to his side by Pelle.

"A pity," Sabeltann mutters, and Pinky isn't looking at him right now, but he sounds _hungry_. "I'll have to do it myself, then." He moves and shifts closer - but his hand slips, and he tumbles forward, falling half onto Pinky and half onto Benjamin.

They tense. Pinky stops breathing.

Benjamin mutters. Is silent for a while.

And starts snoring.

Sabeltann pushes up onto his hands so that he hovers directly above Pinky, dark hair falling around him like an inverted halo.

Pinky meets his gaze. His pupils are blown wide.

Sabeltann darts forward, diving quick as an eagle, hungrily mashing their lips together while cradling his face. Pinky returns the kiss as best he can, and he's falling, falling, his stomach a bottomless pit of arousal and glee.

When Sabeltann pulls back, his lips are swollen, cheeks flushed.

"What about - what about you?" Pinky gasps out, hinting to the fact that they're both hard, Sabeltann's own erection brushing against his.

Sabeltann's eyes gleam in the moonlight. "Let me take care of you," he mutters, voice dark, dark, and alluring.

Pinky shudders, closes his eyes - can't muster the will force to speak, so he only nods, the hand pinned to his side grasping at what little of Sabeltann's shirt he can reach.

Sabeltann moves, unbuttoning his pants with sure motions - and then moments later, Pinky grits his teeth against the moan threatening to spill from his lips. Sabeltann wraps his fingers around Pinky's cock, and that's the last he really takes note of because the pleasure becomes too much.

He gulps down gasping breaths, the pressure building, and he's aware of the small keening noises at the back of his throat, but he can't stop them - he's aware he's trembling with the force of staying still, but he can't stop that, either, and Sabeltann thankfully keeps going despite it.

Sabeltann leans forward, burying his face in Pinky's neck, and he's shaking, too - rocking against Pinky's thigh in time with his own hand -his breath hot and stuttered against Pinky's skin.

" _Shit_ ," Sabeltann mutters, moving faster, and Pinky's close, so close.

Sabeltann shifts, and then there's a hint of teeth at the base of his neck, and Pinky comes with a muffled whimper. The pleasure courses through him for one heartbeat, two, three, _four._

He's still panting when Sabeltann stills above him, close, breath fanning across Pinky's skin.

"Holy shit," Pinky breathes.

Sabeltann snorts, then chuckles, then laughs, his whole body shaking as he tries to keep quiet. "Holy shit is right," he mutters, pulling back to glance down at him, lips bitten and skin flush. He absently tucks Pinky's now-soft dick back into his pants. "Gods, you're pretty like this."

"Like," Pinky repeats, confused, "like this?"

"Mhm." Sabeltann traces the pad of his thumb across Pinky's lower lip. "Hard and desperate."

Pinky opens his mouth enough to pull Sabeltann's thumb into it, licking his skin.

He tastes of seawater and ink.

Sabeltann blinks in surprise, then shifts, hand twitching. "Remind me to have you do that sometime later," he murmurs, "when we have more space and time."

It's Pinky's turn to blink. "There's a later?"

"Of course there's a later, you idiot. But for now, it's sleep. And that means you, too, Lech," he says.

Pinky stiffens. Lech? Lech had _heard_?

"Yes, I know you're awake, Lech," Sabeltann says, the hand not currently in Pinky's mouth squeezing his shoulder, "and if you know what's best for you, you won't say a word of this to anyone." There's silence for a moment. Sabeltann rolls his eyes. "Answer me."

"A - aye, Captain," comes a terrified whisper from somewhere to Pinky's far right.

Sabeltann nods, apparently satisfied. He lies down, shifting about for a bit before settling.

"We're a mess," Pinky whispers, indicating the cum on his pants.

Sabeltann gestures dismissively. "No one cares," he mutters, wrapping his arm around Pinky's torso. "Don't worry."

Pinky wiggles a bit around until he can get at least one arm loose, then turns into Sabeltann's side as much as he can, which isn't a lot, considering everything. Sabeltann shifts closer, though, and Pinky buries his face in his hair.

It's far easier falling asleep this time around.


End file.
